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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25810462">Imprint</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doreling/pseuds/Doreling'>Doreling</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bass - Freeform, F/F, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Gals being pals, Innocence, Orchestra, Orchestra Kids, The slightest hint of homophobia if you squint, band kids, bassoon, except not really, high school life</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 11:35:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>703</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25810462</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doreling/pseuds/Doreling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A small vignette of two friends during their orchestra break</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>OFC/OFC</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Imprint</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“And... break! Go stretch! Meet back here in ten minutes!” The conductor announced.<br/>
Mellie gently set her bass on the floor and turned to see the bassoon in front of her.<br/>
“Okay, you would not believe the week I’ve had, Mellie. I failed my math test and another person dropped out of APUSH into the regular classes. And she was my project partner! I’m really stressed out here!” Harriet gushed as she dramatically fainted into Mellie’s arms.<br/>
“Hiya, Harry, it’s nice to see you this week too. Your eyeliner is really on point today.”<br/>
“Thanks, James did it for me during AP bio.”<br/>
Mellie inspected the rest of Harriet’s face as she talked about All-State auditions, art projects, and the impeding Homecoming game. Her eyebrows were the most expressive part of her face, detailing the inner emotions that didn’t come out in her voice. The fluorescents above them yellowed out her skin.<br/>
Mellie closed her eyes and listened to the rest of the room; forty teenagers playing catch-up in less time than a bathroom break. They were loud and bubbly; laughing about the latest form of amusement. The occasional shriek of happiness or indignation taking center stage.<br/>
“Are you going to the dance after?” Mellie asked, interrupting Harriet’s rant on the follies of Picasso.<br/>
“Maybe, I don't know. I want to go with James, but he’s still grounded from what he did in June. I can’t believe his parents are still upset about it! I mean, it was just self-expression, right?”<br/>
Her lips formed the shape of disappointed rhetoric. Mellie thought that that was a shape unique to bassoons. The trombones didn’t have lips like that.<br/>
A fiddly jig floated above the rubble of sound; its haunting tune brought forth the mood of the season; reminding the room of the power of suggestion. Mellie sat on the floor, and Harriet flopped into her lap, still discussing the arbitrary politics of modern art.<br/>
“I can appreciate simplicity through modernism, I mean, look at what Frank Lloyd Wright did. But does a pair of glasses on a pedestal really need to be considered a high form of art worth millions?”<br/>
Harriet had grabbed Mellie’s left hand while speaking and was pretending to read her palm. She folded it and messed with her fingers.<br/>
Mellie watched Harriet’s face; her determined look felt like the most natural thing in the world.<br/>
“I’ve always liked your left hand. I think your callouses are the coolest status symbol ever! Like, look at this!” She presented Mellie’s ring finger.<br/>
“This is a summary of your efforts. A noticeable mark your craft has left on you. I wish I had something physical like that.” She trailed off, looking at Mellie’s rough fingerprints.<br/>
“Your lips are marked,” Mellie spoke up. She looked down upon Harriet’s face and locked eyes. With unspoken permission, she continued.<br/>
“I don’t know how to fully explain it, but your lips are different than anyone else’s I know. The trumpets and flutes and oboes, their lips all have a factor to them that just scream their instrument at you. Your lips just poke at the mind to pass a note saying BASSOON in bubble letters. Or at least, that’s how I feel they say it.”<br/>
Harriet’s lips were open; she seemed to be grasping for words. A bubble had formed around them, blocking out the noodling of the kids around them. Their own little world; stuck in that moment. Private and public, unnoticed by others.<br/>
Mellie’s heart was pounding in her ears. The rushing blood had picked up a beat, singing: too much. Beat. Too soon. Beat. Too much. On and on and on and on-<br/>
“So,” Harriet’s lips quirked. “You must spend a lot of time thinking about my lips to know all that.” There was a whisper of knowing suggestion behind her tone. Mellie wasn’t sure she disagreed with what it was implying.<br/>
A retort fluttered in her heart, ready to fly at a moment’s notice.<br/>
“Everybody come on back! Break time is over!”<br/>
The carefully crafted bubble surrounding them burst into a thousand tiny shards as the scramble to get back to position commenced. The sound of imperfect practice emanated once more from Room 4103.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I wrote this for a class assignment a year or so ago, and it was published in my college's literary magazine. I also posted this on my writing tumblr @dorleing like, a year ago. Hope you like it!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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